Preface

I have no idea where this came from. The funny thing about this is that I was sober when I wrote this so I can’t even blame drunk-Fable.

I wanted to write for League again, but a running joke of mine is that the best way to write LoL fanfiction is to not write LoL fanfiction (set in Runeterra).

The Adventures of Captain Morgan 1

Morgan Olsen

My soul shivered in excitement. “Wait, you’re telling me I can go to Runeterra, get special powers, and bang hot chicks?”

“You’ll have to work for that last one, but sure,” replied the totally-legit entity whose ominous, black aura I was conveniently ignoring.

“Is Ahri there?”

“Yes.”

“Fuck yes. I’m in.”

“A-Are you sure? You haven’t even heard what I want you to do there.”

“I paid five hundred bucks so I could simp for Ahri. She’s not even my main. You really think I’m going to stop now?” I asked him, completely seriously. Ahri was love. Ahri was life.

“You’re right. Thank Kyubey for idiots…”

“Damn straight. Kyubi is just Japanese for nine times the bae.”

“You know what? Here’s your isekai care package. Enjoy yourself,” he said. As I vanished from the space between worlds, I heard him say, “You hopeless imbecile.”

X

I woke up with a jolt of pain.

Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. I stumbled drowsily to my feet. Through instincts that were not entirely mine, I stumbled to the bathroom. The reflection in the mirror sent a shiver of dread down my spine.

I was not a twenty-two year old college student who played League of Legends for his university’s esports team. I was a boy, a child who ought to be going to soccer camps and little league baseball games.

The memories that flooded in confirmed it: I was twelve again.

Morgan Reese was gone. I was now Morgan Olsen, son of Erik and Gina Olsen. I was twelve years old and about to enter seventh grade. I lived on Runeterra, and technically in Valoran, but not Valoran the continent. No, I was in Valoran City, capital and largest city in the nation by the same name.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, my parents were dead. They died under “mysterious circumstances” that no one would tell me about, though that might have been because I was a snot-nosed brat until literally two minutes ago.

To add to this bizarro sundae, my guardian was Uncle Gragas, mom’s older brother, as in the fat boozehound Champion. I wasn’t sure how to feel about that. He was my main for so long, but I hadn’t realized I’d be meeting him quite like this. Instead of Ahri’s fluffy tails, I was being handed off to the drunkest man on Runeterra.

Apparently, in this reality, he was CEO and president of the Graggy Ice Brewing Company, the largest of its kind in Valoran (the country). The company started out with their signature Graggy Ice light beer, but quickly expanded to mead and ale when Uncle Gragas met dad.

Dad’s younger brother? Olaf “call me Brolaf” Olsen.

Yeah… My head hurt just thinking about this shitshow.

Why was I even here? Magic existed, as did yordles and vastaya, but there wasn’t any scary, world-shaping conflict mini-Morgan could remember. Demacia wasn’t going all Hitler on its own mages. Noxus wasn’t fucking Ionia up the ass. Chicken-man hadn’t remade his glorified sand castle in fantasy-Africa.

Best of all, the Aspects and Darkin weren’t a thing as far as I knew. That meant Xolaani wasn’t about to destroy a good chunk of the world until Ryze got off his blueberry ass and Smited her into oblivion via the World Runes.

Which again raised the question: Why was I here?

There was no Ahri in sight, which meant the shadowy ROB probably wanted me to do something. I’d agreed to that thing and I didn’t know what I agreed to, distracted as I was by the thought of Ahri’s creamy thighs.

“I… I may have made a mistake,” I muttered.

“It was no mistake, Morgan Olsen,” a solemn, masculine voice intoned.

“Holy fuck!” I shouted. I jumped a foot in the air. Turning, I found a calico rabbit, about the size of a volleyball. “Did… Did you say that?”

“Indeed. I am Calico Jack, and I have been sent to you to act as your guide and conduit.”

I had a bad feeling about this. “Sent by who? Conduit to what?”

“Both answers are one and the same, I was sent by the First Star. Congratulations, Morgan, you are the first of this generation’s Star Guardians.”

“No. No fucking way.”

“What? You get magic powers! Immortality!”

“Yeah? How many Star Guardians from past generations are still alive and well?”

“Plenty. There’s Ahri, Nilah, Janna…”

“And how many past generations have there been?” I asked pointedly, ignoring the confirmation of Ahri’s existence for the moment. I wasn’t that much of a simp.

“...”

“Yeah, I fucking thought so.”

This was bad. I knew League lore like the back of my hand. I’d always thought it was a shame Runeterra lacked a singular medium that had all its canon lore. My biggest gripe with Arcane wasn’t anything against the show, only that I wished it included a broader perspective of Runeterra as a whole, not just Piltover and Zaun.

On the flip side, I knew only the bare bones when it came to the Star Guardians alternate timeline. The skins were cool. The First Star anointed Star Guardians. They fought the darkness, which really meant the Void and the Star Nemesis line of skins. They were all destined to live tragically short lives despite the First Star’s many blessings because the writers took inspiration from Puella Madoka instead of a more happy-go-lucky show.

Oh, and the music videos slapped. The songs were really catchy.

That’s it. That was all I knew. It wasn’t like these alternate timelines got fleshed out by the Riot staff anyway.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

Which meant I was up shit creek without a paddle. Or a canoe. God, I’d fucking love a canoe right now, and the devil’s bargain with this fucking bunny didn’t count!

“You must, Morgan Olsen,” Calico Jack said. “It is your destiny. In you lies tremendous power. Yours is the power to stave off the darkness, to banish the creatures of the Void. You were meant for more.”

A sinking pit formed in my stomach. “This… This was the deal, wasn’t it? The price for reincarnation?”

“It was. The First Star sought something different, a Spark from a Foreign Star. You are that Spark.”

“This is my ‘care package…’”

“You are a protector. Please, allow me to show you the Guardian you can truly become.”

“No. No way in hell. I’m fucking twelve!”

“You are not, appearances aside.”

“I’m not going to stay a midget forever! Come back in ten years!”

“I can’t do that, Morgan. You’ve been chosen.”

“No. I refuse. Tell the First Star it can fight its own battles,” I muttered as I stalked away, fuming. I felt betrayed. Where was my fluffy, funny isekai experience?

X

“God, I need a drink,” I groaned as I stared up at the clouds. I was at a nearby park, sprawled out on the grass as though my will to live had been sucked away.

I was halfway through summer break. Typically, mini-Morgan spent his days playing soccer with his friends but I couldn’t find it in me to act like a child again, not with this shit weighing over my head.

The Star Guardians… Just the name made me want to throw up. I’d gone to university after a gap year, not because I figured out what I wanted to do with my life, but because I hadn’t. I was chronically allergic to responsibility.

I hated taking charge of anything. Group projects. League matches. Anything at all. If it involved someone else, they could be the shot-caller, not me. But here was this bunny, swearing up and down that I was destined to fight for the universe. Maybe someone else would be excited in my place, but not me.

That was altogether too much responsibility in my opinion. I was just some boozy gamer coasting through life on daddy’s money, not exactly “save the world” material, never mind the entire fucking universe.

Besides, wasn’t Lux supposed to be the first of the new guard?

I really wanted a drink. I’d binged a bottle or two of Crown Royal for a lot less than this. I was a stress-drinker. But so what? It kept me mellow, damnit.

Then I heard it, the sound of glass cracking. It was faint, as though distant. Or maybe muted, like if it happened underwater. I didn’t know; it wasn’t like I was a musician or whatever.

I groaned and picked myself up. I looked around to see if anyone needed help. The park I was in was fairly small, two basketball courts, a kiddy playground, and some grass. I didn’t think I’d hear any glass nearby. Maybe someone dropped a thermos or something?

Out of the corner of my eye, I found what made the sound. There, above the playground swings, was a thin, hairline crack in the sky. It drew my eye as if it had a gravity all its own, as if I was meant to look for it.

Even as I watched, I heard another cracking noise. Violet light seeped into the world from the cracks. Others were starting to notice. A mother and her three kids looked up, momentarily distracted from their conversation. An older boy watching his little brother turned away, only to squint in confusion. Two more women, gossiping while their kids played in the sandbox, looked for the noise, only to gasp in surprise.

Something was happening, and I had a feeling I knew what. I bolted upright, screaming out before I knew what I was doing. “Get away! Away from the crack!”

That roused the adults. They began to herd the kids away from the strange phenomenon. If it was what I thought it was, I doubted they could move fast enough.

Then, as if to prove my point, an ear-splitting noise filled the air as the cracks widened and shattered. Strange, spider-like creatures scurried forth. They were quadrupedal but had insect-like, chitinous bodies. Sharp claws and scythe-like mandibles clacked menacingly.

Someone started screaming. I didn’t know who. It made everything so much worse. People froze, but the voidlings, could be nothing else, had no such compunctions. They lunged and people died.

I ran. I’d warned them. This… This wasn’t my fault. This wasn’t my responsibility.

I bolted like a bat out of hell until I reached the basketball courts. There, behind the brickwork bathrooms, I allowed myself to pause and catch my breath.

My heart pounded in my ears. Each breath came raggedly and I could taste blood with each exhale. I’d never been more terrified.

People were dying out there, but this wouldn’t last, I told myself. Valoran City had its protectors. Police with hextech guns. It even had a mage academy, even if mages were really rare. Mini-Morgan didn’t know what-all mages could do, but they could handle a few voidlings, surely.

It didn’t need to be me.

It shouldn’t need to be me. I was a powerless twelve year old.

‘Because you rejected that power,’ a voice whispered accusingly in my ear.

I heard someone fall and shout. Trembling, I poked my head from behind the brick wall. My eyes found the older boy. He’d been leading his little brother away, pushing him ahead as he used his own body to shield his sibling, until a voidling had lunged and lashed at his leg.

Behind him, the voidling had sunk its teeth into his calf. In front was his little brother, probably eight or nine, paralyzed with fear.

They were going to die. Both of them. The voidling was going to eat the older brother and make the younger watch. If I moved, it would see me too.

Our eyes met. Pain and fear clouded his eyes, but he reached for his brother nonetheless. Behind him, I saw the voidling raise its claw in the air, a killing blow.

I didn’t know what came over me. I’d think about what I’d done for years later, but I’d find no satisfactory answer.

I was no hero. I hated responsibility. I liked that about myself. I just… I just wanted to live my life, floating carefree and having a good time.

Yet, I found myself throwing myself at the voidling like a fucking idiot.

I let out a wordless roar that probably sounded more like a broken squeak. I wasn’t even sure what I was looking at anymore. All I felt was the white-hot pain of its claws sinking into my arms.

Voidlings, as I’d found, were heavy, heavier than me. They were half my size but I could not push even one of them back. Even as I fought desperately, I knew that this would be the last thing I’d ever do.

I would die, right here, mere hours after my starting my “isekai experience.” I would die an utterly meaningless death, just to buy some brat I didn’t even know a few extra seconds.

‘The light is in you, my Guardian,’ I heard a faint voice call. It was probably the blood loss talking, but she sounded so melodic, tragic and sorrowful, but determined. ‘Cry out! Resist! Do not give in! Please, just a little longer.’

I was tired. I was a powerless twelve year old brat who’d decided to wrestle a spider-shaped blender. I could feel its claws and mandibles taking chunks from me. It all bled together until my world became a single, unceasing river of agony.

Blood, my blood, splattered the ground. My arms felt weak even as my fingers closed around its two, front limbs. At this point, I wondered if there was more blood in me or out of me.

‘Fight, Guardian! He is so close. Cling to life with all you are. There is still a chance.’

A flash of orange and white danced across my vision. The voidling’s claws lashed my palms as it was torn from me. Then, the pain stopped. Through teary eyes, I saw the voidling that had been punted off of me. My vision swam. My eyes could barely focus on the bunny in front of me.

“Really, Morgan, if you were going to play hero anyway, you should have let me anoint you properly,” he huffed. Calico Jack. It had to be. I… I hadn’t imagined the voice. “Well, I guess you’re not all bad, you wishy-washy fool.”

He reached out his paw and placed it on my head.

I had no idea what exactly happened after that. There was a bright light, a burst of white and blue that filled the basketball court. Power and warmth flooded me as I touched something older than the universe itself. Time seemed to flow backwards as my lacerations healed, the very blood on the ground flowing back into my body.

The First Star had found her Star Guardian. It was a moment of cosmic significance, each such event immortalized in the history of the universe itself.

And yet, through it all, I could only wish I had a stiff drink.

Author’s Note

Yes, a Star Guardian isekai experience. I have no idea what I’m doing, but it sounded like an interesting writing topic.

Calico Jack is the name of an English pirate captain. He sucked at his job.

He was given a pardon in 1719 and went legit for less than a year. During that time, he had an affair with a woman (Anne Bonny) and turned back to piracy. Bonny followed him and Mary Read pretended to be a man on his ship.

He was captured in October, 1720 and executed in November. That’s his entire legacy. He’s famous because he had two women on board.

Bonny and Read escaped hanging because they claimed they were pregnant. Read died in her cell the next year, likely from complications following pregnancy, but we don’t know what happened to Bonny.

Thank you for reading. To reach a wider audience, and because I enjoy a more forum-like setup to facilitate discussion, I like to crosspost to a wide variety of websites. You can find them all on my Link Tree: https://linktr.ee/fabled.webs.